


From Despair to Joy

by Lady_Ridalya



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:06:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29274423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Ridalya/pseuds/Lady_Ridalya
Summary: If SPN had to end the way it did, then so be it. But they could have kept the plot and still given Dean, Cas, Sam and Eileen a far better ending to their story. This is my attempt at doing just that. Top!Cas and Bottom!Dean in Heaven, plus John Winchester gets what he deserves.Trigger Warnings for the barn scene in general. Death and canon typical violence.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Comments: 7
Kudos: 73





	From Despair to Joy

**Author's Note:**

> I kept the same plot points and the same dialogue as Episode 20. But I brought Cas back just to prove it could be done if the Network hadn’t been cowards. And Sam ends up with Eileen as he should. Not beta read.

The obnoxious beeping of an alarm clock rouses Dean Winchester from a fitful sleep. He reaches blindly for the offensive machine and smacks it into silence. Cracking open an eye, he sees 8:00 staring back at him. Why did he set alarms again? It wasn’t like he had a day job… He sluggishly pushes himself into a sitting position and scrubs the sleep from his eyes with his palms. The clicking of nails on the concrete heralds the arrival of Miracle. He always seems to know when Dean wakes up. 

The dog eagerly jumps up onto the bed and into Dean’s lap. The blonde pulls him into a hug, holding him close. He buries his face in the dog’s long hair and inhales deeply. Not even Sam knows how secretly affection Dean truly is, but Miracle doesn’t judge him for it so Dean indulges himself when he can.

“Hey, buddy! Good morning.”

Not a bad way to start the day. 

When he finally manages to convince himself to get out of bed, Dean dons his dead guy robe and shuffles his way into the kitchen. As he gets close, the smell of eggs and bacon signals that Sam is already awake - probably went for a run already - the weirdo. 

Dean meanders into the room and makes a beeline for the fridge. On his way he passes the toaster and congratulates himself on his excellent timing as two pieces of toast pop up. Sam looks over his shoulder at the noise and knows exactly what his idiot brother is about to do. 

“It’s hot.” He warns. But he’s too late. The elder Winchester’s hands have already closed around the freshly browned bread without thinking. 

“AHHHH! Hot bread!” The pieces of toast miraculously end up on the counter as opposed to the floor as Dean sucks his damaged fingers into his mouth. He stares at the toaster as though it has personally wronged him. 

“I tried to warn you, dude. Not the toaster’s fault you only think with your stomach.” Sam chuckles at his brother’s half-hearted glare and watches as he locates a plate before gingerly picking up the bread. Dean grabs the butter out of the fridge and settles himself at the table, watching his younger brother expectantly. 

“Oh am I supposed to bring his highness his breakfast?”

He smiles around his mouthful of toast. “Well since you’re right there and already cooking, ya might as well”. Dean’s cheeky grin had gotten him what he wanted with women for years, but Sam was long immune. He merely shook his head and threw a few more pieces of bacon into the skillet. 

“Fine. But you’re doing the dishes”. 

Dean just shrugs. Gives him an excuse to let Miracle lick off any leftovers when Sam isn’t looking. He often wonders why he was so against getting a dog for all those years. 

After breakfast, the boys go their separate ways to prepare for the day. It’s all mechanical at this point. Showering, brushing teeth, putting on clothes like they have somewhere to go. Dean still makes his bed every day like his dad had drilled into him. But even he has to admit he’s getting sloppy with it. Especially as of late. He knows nobody is going to see his room again except for him, so who cares what it looks like?

He can hear the washing machine going as Sam tries to get the blood out of their clothes from the last hunt. Beheading Vamps always ended with them being covered in a fine red mist. He hears the thud as his brother gives the machine a swift kick. They really did need to balance the damn thing. He spends the next hour cleaning his weapons in the library just in case he needs them on the next case before grabbing his laptop and flipping it open. He feels Miracle’s head on his knee and absently gives him a scratch between the ears as he begins surfing the usual news sites.

Sam wanders into the library and opens up his own computer across from Dean. His hair is still damp from his shower and Dean so badly wants to make a wet dog comment, but he refrains. 

Sam sighs at his screen. “Nothing weird coming over the wire. Social media looks clean. You got anything?”

Dean’s eyes are glued to his own laptop. He’s definitely got something. He gives his brother a terse nod and they both leap into action. Dean slides his newly cleaned handgun into the waistband of his jeans and grabs his jacket as he jogs to the garage. Sam is right behind, wondering what Dean could have found that actually caused his brother to hustle. Dean had barely left his room, much less the bunker itself for the past several weeks. He knows why of course. Despite the fact that they were free from Chuck’s control and their friends had all been snapped back to life, there was a distinctly Angel-shaped hole in his brother’s life. 

Sam had seen the way that for the first week or so, Dean would subconsciously make three of anything he cooked. Cas didn’t need to eat, but he had always appreciated Dean’s food. He saw the way he looked at the empty chair beside him and at the names newly carved into the table. Dean had insisted on carving Castiel’s himself. Sam pretended he didn’t hear the quiet prayers in the middle of the night when Dean couldn’t sleep and he made mental notes of how quickly his brother drank through their beer stash - it only ever got this bad after losing the Angel and this time it was permanent. He was worried about him, but Dean actually seemed excited about this case, so he’d take what he could get.

~~~~~~~~~~

He really shouldn’t be surprised when the Impala pulls up outside a restaurant. Sam scoffs as they both climb out of the vehicle. He turns to look at his brother.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

Dean is deadly serious. “Oh, I don't have a choice. This is my destiny.”

Sam can’t hide his smile as he reads the giant banner that spans the street in front of them.  
It’s bright blue and the white letters read “Welcome to the 43rd Annual Akron Pie Fest!”

“It's just so beautiful.” If Sam didn’t know any better he’d say his brother was getting choked up. 

“Are you crying?”

“What? No. You’re crying. I'm...I'm gonna go get some, uh…”

“Pie.”

“I'm gonna get some damn pie.”

Sam finds a bench where they can see the people as they walk by. He watches as his brother is nearly careened into by an oblivious passerby. The large box in his hands wobbles precariously. 

“Excuse me. Hey, hey, hey, hey!” Dean is clearly annoyed at almost losing his prize.

Sam shakes his head in disbelief as his brother plops down next to him revealing the box contains six different slices of pie. 

Dean is smiling as he raises a fork above the treasured pastries. But as he glances at his brother, his smile falls slightly. 

“Hey. What? What's wrong?”

“Nothing. I'm fine.” He doesn’t want to broach the subject with Dean here of all places. 

“No, come on. I know that face. That's, uh… That Sad Sam face.”

“I'm not Sad Sam.” the younger Winchester grouses. “I'm just… I'm thinking about Cas, you know? Jack. If they could be here…” He can see something intensely sad in his brother’s eyes before Dean looks down at his lap.

“Yeah. Yeah, no. I think about 'em, too. You know what? That pain's not gonna go away.  
Right? But if we don't keep living, then all that sacrifice is gonna be for nothing.” Sam wonders if his brother is trying to convince him or himself. “So, quit being a friggin' Eeyore, huh? Come on.”

Dean motions to the slices of bye in the box and while his smile returns, it doesn’t reach his eyes anymore. “Get into this!”

Sam knows he needs to drop the subject. He knows he can’t make his brother happy right now, but he can bring himself a little joy. “Yeah, you're right.” Sam takes a slice of pie and smashes it directly into Dean’s face. 

The scandalized look on his brother’s face is everything and he can’t hold back the laughter. “I have wanted to do that for a very long time.” He laughs harder as Dean uses a fork to wipe the pie off his face and eat it. “Oh, you're right. I do feel better.”

~~~~~~~~~~  
Elsewhere, night has fallen on a quaint house on the outskirts of town. Inside, a dad checks the mail while his kids play checkers in the living room. They don’t quite finish their game before their mother calls them upstairs for a bath. As the kids and mom go upstairs, a shadow passes outside the front door and the doorbell rings. The kids and mom stop on the stairs and watch as the dad goes to the door. He opens the door, but no one is there. 

The woman seems concerned, but the dad turns away from the door with a shrug. “Probably just some kids. It’s…”

His words are cut short as a large blade suddenly protrudes out of his chest. As he falls to the ground, there are two men behind him in black suits wearing creepy, smiling skeleton masks. The man in front has the knife in his hand. The mother screams for her children to run and she is right behind them. The men follow slowly, knowing their quarry has nowhere to go.

The kids run into a bedroom and close the door. The mom is in the hallway, leaning against the door as one of the men approaches. She screams as the man stabs her. The door opens and the killer is standing in front of the door while the mom is on the floor. The children are nowhere to be seen.

The killer enters the bedroom and starts looking around, stopping at a bed and pulling the blanket up to look under it. It’s empty. The masked man walks slowly around the room, stopping next to a second bed. As he turns around to walk towards the door, the children hiding beneath it cover their mouths with their hands in an attempt to remain silent. They are terrified and shaking, but know better than to make a sound. After a few seconds they think they might be alone when the older boy is abruptly pulled from under the bed by his feet and both kids scream.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, Sam and Dean arrive at the house in their FBI suits. There is yellow crime scene tape across the front door. Sam and Dean approach a police officer at the door and introduce themselves. Dean is looking around for clues as Sam speaks to the officer, but they both raise their badges in sync out of habit. 

“Singer and Kripke. FBI.” Sam has his serious face on. 

The officer seems confused. “Feds do home invasions now?”

Dean grins. “Oh, yeah. We're full service.” He ignores his brother’s quiet sigh.

“Something weird over the wire. One of the bodies... It’s blood was drained?” Sam knows he’s right when he sees the round face go pale.

“Oh, yeah. Throat torn out, the whole nine. Some kind of cannibal crap.”

“And the kids?” Dean always did have a soft spot for children.

“Taken.”

“What about the mom?” According to the bulletin Sam had read, she was alive.

“They left her, but they ripped out her tongue.”

“Any idea what these guys look like?”

“Kinda. She drew this.” The police officer shows Sam and Dean a drawing resembling a grinning skeleton’s face. The brothers look at each other in surprise as the officer is called away. 

Dean breaks the silence first, echoing Sam’s thoughts. “I recognize that face.”

Sam and Dean leave the crime scene. They drive a few short miles away before parking the Impala off the road and under a tree. Dean can’t let his Baby roast in the heat! Sam is tracing routes on the map he has spread out on his side of the warm metal and Dean is flipping frantically through John’s old journal.

“Alright. Let's see. I think it was in '86. Dad was working a string of kidnappings along Route 77…” He glances at Sam to see him point at the map. 

“77” he confirms. 

“So, uh…Akron, Canton, East Sparta. He didn't find much, but the witness did draw this.” Sam feels his stomach drop as Dean flips the book around to show a picture of the same skeleton mask. “Kids were taken. The adults that weren't drained had their…”

“Had their tongues ripped out.” After all these years, Sam wonders when these monsters will stop surprising him with their unnecessary cruelty. 

“Yeah…” Dean is casting his eyes about the area, clearly thinking through the details of the case. “You know what this is? Mimes.” Sam’s eye roll is nearly audible. “Evil mimes.”

“Yeah, or Vampires.”

“Vamp-mimes. Son of a bitch.” Dean thumps his hand against the hood of the car. 

“Alright. Well, if this is the same nest and if the pattern holds, then they'll target Canton next.” Sam traces his finger along the route detailed on the map.

“Okay. It says here that, uh... they target families that are living outside of town, that are isolated, kids usually between the ages of 5 and 10.”

“Okay. So, who in Canton fits that bill?”

~~~~~~~~~~

It's nighttime as a black van pulls up and stops outside a suburban home. Two men in skeleton masks, each carrying a large blade get out of the van and walk up to the front door. They nod at each other in a ‘let’s do this’ manner and turn towards the door. Little do they know, someone beat them there. There is no warning as Dean Winchester uses his trusty machete and slices off one of their heads in a single blow. The head falls to the floor and the second Vamp turns towards the duo. Sam wastes no time. The sharp rapport of a gunshot pierces the silence of the evening and the second Vampire drops onto the cold ground.

The brothers have to manhandle the subdued body into the trunk of the Impala and not for the first time, Dean thanks his father for purchasing this particular car. Even if Dean himself had technically suggested it the one time that Cas sent him back in time. Cas…the Angel had watched over him for so long, and now... Dean stops that train of thought before it can even begin. He needs to focus. He has a job to do. 

They drive until they find a small wooded area away from the city and tie the Vampire to a tree stump. Dean isn’t gentle as he yanks the mask off and slaps the Vamp’s cheek to rouse him. 

“Hey there, sleepy.”

The Vampire groans and his eyes appear unfocused, but at least he’s awake. “What'd you hit me with?”

“Oh, it speaks. Not a mime. Still evil, though.”

Sam resists the urge to say I told you so. “It was a bullet...soaked in dead man's blood.”

“So, let's talk kids, hmm? Those two that you grabbed a couple nights ago...Where are they?” Dean’s eyes narrow as the Vampire just laughs. 

Sam chuckles. You’d think the monsters would know better by now… “Yeah, you really should tell him.”

“And if I do, what? You let me go?”

There is violence in Dean’s smile. “Oh, no, no, no, no, no. No. This isn't a you-walk-out- of-here kind of a situation. But see, if you tell us quick, you get this.” He holds up the blood-stained machete that so easily decapitated the other Vampire. “But if you take your time, you get, uh... you get that.”

Sam grins as he holds up his small switchblade. 

“Yeah, I'll... I'll take that itty-bitty one.”

“That's a bad choice.”

“You see, this…” Dean gestures to the machete “This is quick. It's clean. You know, no muss, no fuss. You blink, and you're dead.”

They’d practiced this in the car beforehand, so Sam knows his cue. “But a blade this small...I'm gonna have to keep sawing and sawing to get your head off, and you'll feel it. Every muscle, tendon, every inch. It could take hours.”

Dean leans in close, his eyes cold. “Oh, and if those kids are dead, he's gonna use a spoon.”

He can tell they’ve made their point as the Vampire nervously licks his lips. His eyes flit wildly between the two brothers as he weighs his options. “They...They're not dead. They're with the nest. We...take a harvest. Every few years, grab a couple kids, raise them up, feed them right, juice them. We don't do fast food.”

Sam’s thankful for some good news. “Yeah. Alright. Where are they?”

~~~~~~~~~~

Within moments the boys are back in the car. They have their location and there isn’t a moment to waste. Following the now dead Vampire’s directions they come upon an old, dilapidated barn in the middle of nowhere. Exiting the car, they instinctively go to the trunk and begin sifting through their arsenal. Sam tries not to think too hard about his brother’s mental state as he takes in how filthy the car is. Dean had never neglected the Impala before… Instead he looks up at the building looming behind them.

“This the place?”

“Dark, creepy, something out of Wes Craven's erotic fantasy? Yeah. It's 100% the place. Alright.”

Sam turns back to the trunk and takes out a gun while Dean picks up a box and pulls out a shuriken. Bitchface activated.

“Come on, one time.” He holds it up slightly, green eyes pleading. 

Sam’s immune to that too. “No.”

“Why not?”

“No.”

“But we could…” Dean makes a throwing motion with the star as Sam backs out of the way. 

“Go with the machete.”

After his brother glumly settled on the large blade, Sam and Dean both enter the barn looking for the kids. The creep quietly through the hay-covered ground, mindful of the various dark corners. Who knows what might be hiding in there… Suddenly, Sam and Dean hear a noise and approach a stall with a closed door. They open it and find the two kids as promised.

Dean lets out a sigh of relief. “Hey, boys. Okay. Come on.” He gestures for them to come out of the stall. “Stay behind us. We're gonna keep you safe. Come on.”

With the young boys behind them, they all turn to leave and see four skeleton-masked Vampires blocking the door. Sam could swear one of them was a bodybuilder before he was bitten. He turns the kids towards the back of the barn. “Go. Go. Go. Run!” The kids do as they’re told and race off into the night. Sam can only hope they get somewhere safe as he joins his brother in facing off against the squad of Vampires. 

~~~~~~~~~~

The open floor of the barn doesn’t allow for much in the way of tactics. It’s a brawl. The hunters hold their own for a time, bracing through kicks and punches. Sam takes a few hits to his kidneys before managing to behead his assailant. On the other side of the room, Dean is shaking his head as though recovering from a blow to the face, but he kicks the Vampire in front of him away and his aim is true as he beheads the creature. Sam’s moment of concern for his brother proves to be to his own detriment as the large Vampire takes advantage of his distraction to punch him squarely in the face. Dean sees his brother hit the floor, clearly unconscious, and struggles to get to his side. He’s yanked backwards by his jacket and feels the Vampire’s arms around his neck begin to squeeze. His vision goes dark. 

When Dean comes to, what could be minutes or even hours later, Sam is still unconscious where he had fallen, but he’s definitely breathing. Dean, on the other hand, is being held face down by the two remaining Vampires. His mouth is full of dirty hay, and the weight on his spine isn’t doing his lungs any favors. He hears footsteps coming towards him and glances up.

“Well, I know you. Jenny. Son of a bitch.” He chuckles. Chuck had to be laughing his ass off wherever he was. A Vamp they’d let go 14 years ago is now in charge of the goons holding him hostage.

“Hey, Dean.” She makes a movement with her hand that Dean can’t quite see and the two meatheads holding him down let him get up to his feet. He makes a show of brushing himself off. As he looks over Jenny’s shoulder he can see Sam, still lying on the ground but now awake. His brother is reaching gingerly for the machete by his side. He needs to stall.

“Well, look at you.” Dean casts a look at the Vampire standing next to him. “You know, we tried to kill each other back in the day. Yeah... This is so weird. It's like running into somebody in high school, you know? Somebody you don't want to see. ...Well, you look good. You do. I mean, a little dead, but, uh, good.”

“Thanks.”

“So, what, are you, like, the, uh... The big boss or something?”

“No. I just called dibs.” 

Dean can’t help but feel a little flattered as he sees Jenny bare her fangs, preparing for the bite. She seems to notice at the last second that the hunter’s eyes are looking over her shoulder, but before she can begin to turn, Sam chops her head off from behind. The sudden decapitation is enough to give the hunters a momentary advantage. Dean spins away from the remaining Vampires and faces off with them again. 

The brawl continues as though it had never stopped. Dean curses his luck as the largest Vamp picks him for a dance partner. This thing is even taller than Sam and is built like a brick house. Dean knew he should’ve brought those throwing stars…He manages to land a few good hits on the giant, but they don’t seem to phase him. The hunter can feel panic start to build as he takes a hit to his stomach, doubling him over in pain. 

Sam manages to behead the Vampire he was tangling with, leaving just Dean against the very large Vampire. Sam raises his machete, ready to go on the offensive with his brother, but he’s not close enough. Before he can even take a step forward, the Vampire grabs Dean by the lapels of his jacket and shoves him backwards against a post. His brother doesn’t move and Sam can only assume he’s had the breath knocked out of him from a hit like that. As the monster continues to push, Sam takes advantage of his distraction to bring the machete down against it’s thick neck. He smiles triumphantly as the Vampire falls to the ground.

He walks towards his brother, absently returning his still bloody machete to its sheath. He’s not looking directly at Dean as he surveys the remnants of the fight. “Alright. Let's go find those kids, get them outta here.”

“Sam...I don't... Mm. I don't think I'm going anywhere.” Dean’s voice is muffled from gritting his teeth. 

“What? What are you talking about?” Surely the Vamp hadn’t pushed him that hard...

“There's something in my...Something in my back. It feels like it's right through me.”

Fear and concern overtake Sam’s features as he quickly comes to stand directly in front of Dean. He can see the sheen of sweat on his brow and hear the slight rattle as he breathes. Hesitantly, Sam reaches around to his brother’s back. He flinches slightly at the warm liquid against his fingers. As he brings his hand back out, it is covered with blood.

Dean groans in agony from even the slight touch. “Oh, God.”

“Alright. Um...Hold on. Okay. Uh, I got you.” He tries to pull his brother away from the post, but Dean’s iron grip on his forearm stops him. 

“No, no, no, no, no. Don't... Don't... Don't move me. Don't move me. It feels like this thing's holding me together right now.” He gives a pained chuckle. “Just give me...Just give me a minute.”

“Yeah. Um... alright. I'll call for help. I'll get the first-aid kit.” He takes out his phone and goes towards the car for the kit.

There’s panic in his brother’s voice that has Sam turning right back around. “Sam, Sam! Sam… Stay wi…Stay with me. Can you stay with me, please?”

“Okay. Yeah.”

“Okay. Okay. Uh... right. Alright. Listen to me. Um...You get those boys and you get them someplace safe, alright?”

Sam is already shaking his head. “Dean…” He motions with his hand to himself and Dean “We are gonna get them somewhere safe.”

“No. You knew it was always gonna end like this for me. It was supposed to end like this, right?  
I mean, look at us. Saving people, hunting things...It's what we do.” He’s fighting to get the words out. He needs Sam to understand that this is it. 

Realization is slowly dawning on the younger Winchester. A first aid kit isn’t going to be enough this time. “No, no. Stop, okay? Just... Just stop.”

“It's okay. It's okay. It's good. It's good. We had one hell of a ride, man.” He sucks in breath through his teeth and grimaces at the fire in his lungs. He tastes copper.

This can’t be happening. Not now. Not when they were finally free. Sam can hear the edge of panic in his own voice. “I will find a way, okay? I-I will find another way.”

“No, man. No. No. No, no, no, no. No bringing me back, okay? You know... You know that always ends bad.” He tries to smile, but it twists into a grimace immediately.

“Dean…”

“Okay.” It’s not a question. It’s an order. 

“P-Please.” Tears pool in hazel eyes as he struggles to keep himself together. Watching his brother die has never gotten easier…

“I'm fading pretty...I'm fading pretty quick, so... there's a few things that I need you to hear. Come here.” Dean reaches for his brother and Sam steps closer. At least this time he gets to say goodbye. He hadn’t had a chance with Cas… His chest constricts painfully in a way that has nothing to do with the rebar shoved through his midsection. God, Cas had died for him and not a week later, he was minutes away from death. So much for living and carrying on. He could only hope the Angel would forgive him for wasting his sacrifice. 

The tears fall freely as Sam feels his brother’s hand on the back of his neck. “Then don't leave me. Don't leave me. I can't do this alone.”

“Yes, you can.”

“Well, I don't want to.”

“Hey. I'm not leaving you. I'm gonna be with you…” Dean chokes back a sob as he places his fist over Sam’s heart. “Right here... every day.”

Anything else Dean had planned to tell his brother was interrupted by the loud whooshing of giant wings. He can’t hide the shock and awe on his face as a familiar form suddenly appears at Sam's side.  
“Cas? What...How? I -”

“Cas?! Oh thank god! Help him!”

The Angel takes all of 0.5 seconds to assess the situation and instantly steps up beside Dean. He starts to reach under the hunter’s arms as though he means to lift him bodily off the rebar. 

“No! Cas. Don’t. Don’t do it. Please don’t. It hurts man. It hurts so fucking bad. I can’t... I don’t -” His breath shudders as the Angel releases his grip. 

“Dean, you are badly hurt. We need to get you to a hospital!”

“No hospitals. No. This is it for me, man. No amount of gauze is gonna fix this.”

Sam’s eyes are flitting between the two now. “Can’t you just...ya know...zap him better?”

The Angel won’t look him in the eyes, but when he does, Sam wishes he hadn’t. The abject sorrow in those blue eyes is like a physical punch to the gut. 

“Sam, I...I wish I could. My powers...they’ve been fading for a while now.” He turns to look at Dean.

“But I felt you call for me.” Blue eyes meet green. “I had to come. I had to try…”

“I’m glad you’re here, Cas. God am I glad to see you again. All this time I thought...and then you said...and I - I couldn’t -” he breaks off as hacking wet coughs wrack his body. Dean holds perfectly still as the Angel slowly reaches up to wipe the blood from the corner of his mouth. He doesn’t complain when it stays cupping his cheek. 

Sam can’t help the small surge of hope as he sees the telltale glow surround the Angel’s hand. Castiel’s eyes are closed as he concentrates, digging deep, bringing every drop of grace he has to bear.

The light in his palm flickers sporadically, and then fades entirely, casting the barn in darkness again. The Angel opens his eyes, but Dean is still in the same spot. Not even the bruises on his face have faded. 

His grip tightens as he feels tears sting his eyes. “It’s - It’s not working. It’s not enough. If I had more time maybe I -”

“Cas…” Dean’s voice is barely above a whisper now “It’s okay, man. You’ve done all you could. Knowing you’re here? You’re a - alive? That’s enough.”

“Dean, I can’t - what good am I if I can’t save you?” It was the only one of Heaven’s mandates he’d never broken. 

He can see something shimmer in Dean’s eyes, feel him lean in slightly to his touch. He’s holding on with every scrap of will he has, despite the intense pain Castiel can feel radiating off of him. He won’t let go. But his skin is getting cold and the light in his eyes is fading fast. 

“Dean…” The Angel’s voice breaks, but he doesn’t care. He cradles that beautiful face in his hands one last time. “It’s okay, Dean. Everything’s okay. I’ve got you. I’ve got you, Dean.” He presses close, careful not to jostle the hunter’s agonized body. The Angel rests their foreheads together as green eyes struggle to focus. “It’s beautiful, Dean. Heaven. Jack and I...we redid it. For you. The walls are gone. They’re all gone. No more memories. Everyone is together and happy and...and they’re waiting for you. Your friends are waiting for you, Dean.”

Castiel sobs as he presses a small kiss to the hunter’s forehead. His voice is a tremulous whisper. “I love you, Dean Winchester. I should’ve told you every second of every day…and I’ll...I’ll find you. I promise I’ll find you. It’ll be okay. You can - you can let go now.” 

Dean’s eyes are drooping and Castiel can feel the grip on his arm weakening, but all he can do is clutch the hunter to him. “Goodbye, Dean.”

Dean looks at him. Looks at Sam at his side, broken and choking back sobs. “...goodbye.”

The hunter’s eyes slip closed. As one last tear streams down his face, his head falls forward onto Castiel’s shoulder. The Angel doesn’t even register Sam draping an arm around his shoulder as the two mourn together.

~~~~~~~~~~  
The trip back to the bunker is silent. Both the Angel and the human lost in their thoughts. Sam has seen his brother die several times now. But Cas...he had to watch Dean die for the first and final time. He knows what that feels like. That bottomless pit of guilt and pain. The helplessness. Especially for an Angel... one who loved Dean Winchester more than anything else in the universe. Sam has known for sure since they got out of Purgatory of course, but it was there long before that. He’d seen the signs. The way Dean moved around Cas, the subtle adjustments: shifting his feet so their arms would brush, glancing over when he thought no one was looking, his fingers twitching every time he saw that backwards tie. Because he’d seen that watchfulness before, that special laugh, those subconscious movements...That’s how he used to move around Jess. It was how he had started to move around Eileen. 

Castiel insists on helping build the pyre. It takes several days to find enough dry wood and they’re both listless and going through the motions. They talk briefly about calling their friends for the funeral, but it’s too much and too soon. The grief is still too near for them to be around a crowd. So when the day comes, it’s just the two of them. Sam, Cas and Miracle stand by Dean’s funeral pyre, his body wrapped in white. Sam has Dean’s Zippo lighter in his hand, but he hesitates. This makes it permanent. Burning his brother’s body means he can’t even try to bring him back. But that’s what Dean wants. He wants Sam to let go. To move on. He wants to go to Heaven where Cas says his friends are waiting and where Sam knows Cas will be the second the embers stop smouldering. 

He doesn’t blame the Angel. Hell, he’d go too if he could. But Eileen is still here, still alive. She’s waiting for him. Jody, Donna and the girls still need him. He still has things to do. With a shuddering sigh, he opens the lighter, lights it, takes a breath and throws it on the pyre before he can second guess himself. The pyre ignites and in a matter of seconds is fully ablaze. The flames turn the night crimson and thick, grey smoke carries Dean Winchester away. Sam doesn’t try to hide the tears in his eyes as he feels Cas’s hand on his shoulder. Two weary souls watching their old life turn to ashes.

~~~~~~~~~~

The obnoxious beeping of an alarm clock rouses Sam Winchester from a fitful sleep. He groggily eyes the machine and eyes the bright red 8:00 with disdain. He smacks the small machine with a little too much aggression to stop the noise. Sitting up in bed, he runs his hands over his face and through his hair. He doesn’t know why he sets an alarm anymore. It’s just him in the underground compound now. Eileen prefers to stay in her house, but Sam can’t make himself leave.

He goes through the motions of preparing for the day. Showering, brushing teeth, putting on clothes like he has somewhere to go. He is going through the motions of making eggs in the kitchen, though he has little appetite most days. He’s staring at the eggs, half-heartedly stirring them, and is startled when the toast pops out of the toaster. He looks over, half expecting his brother to be there to catch the toast. He fights the stinging in his eyes and sudden tightness in his throat as he gives up on the eggs and scrapes them into the trash.

When he was younger, Sam had wanted to get away from his family, from his brother. But now? Being here without him was soul crushing. Every little thing reminded him of Dean. The damn toaster, the recliners and big screen tv, their initials carved into the library table. Dean’s room is the worst though. All of his things in one place as though he’s just stepped out for a quick beer run and will be back any minute. Sam finds himself there at least once a day.

Today is no different. Sam goes into Dean’s room, looking around at the guns on the wall, taking in the two beer bottles still on the table. His heart breaks anew when he spies the unfinished job application on the desk. Dean had always wanted to be a firefighter...always wanted to save people… He drops down onto the edge of Dean’s bed and Miracle comes over to him. They always said animals can sense emotions and the dog has been Sam’s shadow ever since he got back. He gently scratches Miracle’s ears as the tears begin to fall.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” He talks to the dog because the silence is deafening. Miracle whiles in response. “Yeah, me too.”

As he’s sitting in Dean’s room, Sam suddenly hears a cell phone vibrating. It’s muffled, but it’s there. He stands abruptly, startling Miracle and lunges for the desk. Papers scatter and pens clatter to the floor as he frantically sifts through the clutter. He yanks open Dean’s desk drawer and rifles through the various cell phones until he finds one marked ‘Dean’s other other phone’. It’s buzzing.

He presses the green button and raises the device to his ear. “Hello?” 

“Um, hi. Agent Bon Jovi?” He doesn’t recognize the voice on the other end, but that’s definitely one of Dean’s code names. 

“Uh, this is...Agent Bon Jovi.”

“Uh, okay. Well, look. I-I know this is gonna sound nuts, but I'm down in Austin, and we've had a few bodies turn up minus their hearts. Um, and a friend of mine, Donna Hanscum...She said you were the guy to call. Um, Agent... you there?”

Sam closes his eyes. Austin. They’d always talked about going to Texas, but never got the chance. “Yeah, I'm here.” It’s like this is a sign. People out there still need him. He swallows hard. “I'm on my way.”

Sam packs everything he can into the various duffles he’s accumulated over the years. His suits, his jeans, the various flannels - even the ones Dean made fun of him for wearing. Especially those. He packs as much as he can in the Impala before doing one final sweep. He takes his brother’s gun, the few photos they had of their friends, and he clips a leash to Miracle’s collar. Sam moves through the bunker and towards the door, but he pauses at the exit. He turns and looks out on the place that had been his only true home that wasn’t on wheels. His home, haunted by the memories of the brother he couldn’t save. He walks out the door and flips a switch. He keeps walking as the lights go off, one by one, until the bunker is in total darkness.

~~~~~~~~~~

People always made the joke about not going toward the light, but the sun shining in his eyes is entirely unexpected. Dean is standing on a country road, looking out over a beautiful mountain landscape. He knows this place and it’s definitely not Hell. Thank god for that. Or should he say ‘thank Jack’ now? He’ll leave the philosophy stuff to Sam. He’s just glad he’s here. 

He smiles at his picturesque surroundings. “Well, at least I made it to Heaven.”

“Yep.”

Dean starts at the unexpected voice. He turns towards the familiar sound and sees Bobby, sitting on a chair in front of ‘Harvelle’s Roadhouse’. He tilts his head, squinting slightly in confusion. At least Castiel’s words had made him feel better at the end, even if he’s definitely been here before.

“What memory is this?”

Bobby just laughs at him. “It ain't, ya idjit.”

“Yeah, it is, 'cause the last I heard, you... you were in Heaven's lock-up.” Dean walks closer in an attempt to jog his memory. Surely this had happened before...but then again, Cas had said...

“Was. Now I'm not. That kid of yours, before he went... wherever, made some changes here. Busted my ass out. And then he…”

Dean takes a seat in the rocking chair next to Bobby as he continues to speak. 

“Well, he set some things right. Tore down all the walls up here. Heaven ain't just reliving your golden oldies anymore. It's what it always should have been. “Rufus lives about 5 miles that way... With Aretha. Thought she'd have better taste. Ellen and I run this place. Ash is still a piece of work, but he helps out too, so long as Jo keeps him in line. 

“You and Ellen, huh?” Dean waggles his eyebrows at his foster father. 

Bobby just shrugs. “Yeah well, when you get to be my age and you realize all that wasted time was for nothing, you take your chances. Worked out for both of us in the end. I do the heavy lifting at the bar and the house now has a feminine touch again. Didn’t realize how much I missed it. And your mom and dad... they got a place over yonder. It ain't just Heaven, Dean. It's the Heaven you deserve. And we've been waiting for you.” Castiel’s words ring in his ears and he’s afraid he might cry.

Bobby opens a cooler between their chairs and takes out a couple of beers for him and Dean. Dean takes the bottle, opening it easily with his ring. He pauses with the bottle halfway to his lips. 

“So, Jack did all that?”

“Well... Cas helped.” Dean smiles. Of course he did, probably why his powers were still so low. Wouldn’t be surprised if this was all Cas’s idea... “It's a big, new world out there. You'll see.”

Dean finally takes a sip of his beer and grimaces. “Oh, wow. This tastes like the first drink I ever shared with my dad.”

“Quality stuff?”

“No, it's crap. But it was fantastic.”

“Just like this.” Bobby is smiling, but Dean can’t maintain his grin. His smile fades and he stares down at the bottle in his hands. 

“It’s almost perfect.”

“He'll be along. Time up here, it's... it's different. You got everything you could ever want... or need or... dream. So, I guess the question is... what are you gonna do now, Dean?”

Dean knows that Bobby is referring to Sam and he doesn’t bother to correct him. That will be a conversation for another day. Sam is going to live his life the way he always should have. The way he would have if Dean had never shown up at his dorm that night... and Dean? Dean has an Angel to find. He looks away from Bobby and, as if on cue, sees the Impala, with the original KAZ 2Y5 license plate, parked on the road. 

“I think I'll go for a drive.”

“Have fun.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Dean runs his hand reverently along the cool, black metal. Climbing behind the wheel, he smiles. It even smells the same. This new Heaven wasn’t half bad. “Hey, baby.” Dean starts the car and turns on the radio. The first bars of ‘Carry on Wayward Son’ by Kansas begin to play.

“Ah! I love this song.” He revs the engine, delighting in the mechanical roar. Dean throws the car into drive and steps hard on the gas. The Impala leaps forward as though it's eager to be on the road. Dean can’t help but feel the same. “Whoo!”

He speeds off down the road. No speed limit signs apparently. Cas really did think of everything. He drums his hands along the worn leather of the steering wheel as the scenery flashes by. Driving was like meditating for him. It let him think. He was in Heaven now. A Heaven that had been completely redesigned for him. He chuckled a little, wondering how the remaining Angels felt now that the hated Nephalim, his constantly rebellious father, and the human who screwed up their great Apocalypse were essentially in charge.

As Dean drives, he thinks about his own life...all the things he’s done...the monsters he’s vanquished and the people he’s saved. He did pretty damn well for himself. He beat God and he killed Hitler! He was a legend in the hunter community. While he had begun to dream of retirement towards the end, he could never truly regret the life he’d led because it brought him the people he cared about most. Jody, Donna, Claire...and Cas. 

If Dean had regrets, a lot of them centered around the Angel. His smile begins to fade. They’d been through a lot together over the years. That ‘profound bond’ forged in grace and hellfire had come close to breaking so many times - not the least of which was when Dean let the Angel walk out of his life. He would always regret not stopping him. But Cas had come back, like he always did. And yet...the Angel wasn’t here with him now. He’d said he would find Dean in Heaven, so why wasn’t he here? He turned the Impala off the road near a field of onions - who puts onions in Heaven? Seriously. 

Dean exits the car and leans against the hood. The heated metal is warm at his back as he bows his head and closes his eyes. He prays. Cas had said before that he could sense it when Dean’s soul called out for him...when it longed for him. And he’d been there when Dean bit it, so surely he knew the hunter was in Heaven. That asshole is hiding. 

Dean always feels awkward when he prays. Begging is what it really is and Dean Winchester did not beg. But this time he might make an exception. Cas isn’t here and the hunter has something he needs to say.

“Cas...I know you can hear me, man. I um, I know I haven’t prayed to you in a while...since Purgatory anyway...and you stopped me then from saying some uh, pretty important stuff. Stuff you need to hear. So if you wanna pick up that conversation where we left off, get your feathery ass over here.” 

There is a moment of silence where Dean is afraid that the Angel might have decided to avoid him literally forever, but the beating of wings is loud in his ears. He opens his eyes to see the Angel several feet away standing in the field. 

“Hello, Dean” The hunter can’t help the smile that immediately springs to his face. But the Angel is eyeing him a little warily and the distance between them feels massive when he’s so used to having his personal space invaded. 

“Hey, Cas. I uh, was a bit bummed when you weren’t at my welcoming party.” 

“Dean, I -”

“Guess you didn’t want to find me all that badly after all.” The words are quiet, but his gaze is challenging.

They are suddenly face to face. Blue bore into green and Dean stifles a gasp. The Angel’s eyes have always been so dynamic, even when he keeps his facial expressions schooled. Dean could see it as the emotions swirled in those eyes...anger and joy, confusion and fear. 

“You know exactly what I want.” He whispered fiercely. “I wanted to find you, Dean. The second I felt your soul cross over. But I didn’t think you would want me around after all that. You told me not to do it, remember? And you’ve never said anything yourself and I thought...”

Dean is on his feet, instantly, using his slight height advantage to stare cooly down his nose at the Angel. “First of all, I didn’t get a chance before that vantablack goo snatched you up. And I meant don’t kill yourself for me. Don't sacrifice everything for one guy all over again. Plus, if you remember, I was too busy fucking dying the second time, Cas. Forgive me if I couldn’t wax poetic with a hunk of metal through my gut.”

The Angel breaks their staring contest, suddenly finding his shoes very interesting. This isn’t how he wanted their reunion to go. 

“Cas, would you look at me, man? Did you mean what you said? Do - do you love me?”

Sapphire eyes raise tentatively to meet Dean’s. He sighs deeply. “Dean, I have loved you from the moment I laid eyes on your soul amidst the ash and brimstone of Hell. I pieced you together, atom by atom, and rebuilt your body using my own grace. I knew you inside and out, what and who you were from the moment we met and I still loved you. When I lied to you to keep you safe and gave up armies rather than see you harmed, I loved you. When you sent me away after the fall and when the Mark made you try to kill me, I loved you. Through all the pain and anger and betrayal on both sides, I. Loved. You. And I always will.”

Dean can feel the thickness in his throat that means he’s going to cry. Goddamn it. Not again. “So why didn’t you tell me before? Why weren’t you there to meet me like you promised?” He cringes at how pathetic he sounds.

“Because I was...embarrassed… I didn’t know how to act around you anymore...what to do or say… I thought if I stayed away for a few thousand years maybe we could start over some day. Because I would have rather ripped out my own grace than lose your friendship. I’m not ashamed of how I feel and I don’t regret telling you. I was being selfish in what I thought were my final moments. You owe me nothing, Dean. I picked a male vessel so you would stay focused on the mission, so you wouldn’t be distracted. But then I started to want...other things. If I hadn’t picked the wrong vessel maybe things would have been different, but you could never reciprocate. Not like this. I thought that maybe after Purgatory there was a chance. When you prayed to me I thought that...that you and I...”

Castiel does not appreciate the hunter’s quiet chuckle. “Ya know, for a centuries old Angel, you sure are dumb.”

“Dean, I -”

“Hey. No talking. It’s my turn.” He scrubs his hands down his face and looks to the sky as though it has the answers he needs. “Cas...I don’t do emotions, okay? Anger is really the only thing I’m good at and I can deal with it by chopping off monster heads. So what you’re looking for? What you’re wanting me to say? I can’t do that. I’m sorry.”

The Angel visibly deflates, his expression pained. “I...I understand. Thank you for your honesty.” He starts to turn away and is surprised to feel the hunter’s strong grip around his arm. 

“I’m not done.” Castiel pauses, bracing himself against further rejection. Dean’s hand slides down the sleeve of his coat and calloused fingers grip the Angel’s palm. Castiel chances a glance back as he lets the hunter manhandle his fingers, pushing them towards his palm until he’s left with only the middle and forefinger extended. Dean presses the digits to his temple.

“Read my mind.”

“Dean, please. You’ve said enough. I don’t need to hear any more.”

“Yes you do. Now read my mind. I know you can. ...Please?”

It’s the ‘please’ that does it. Castiel has never been able to deny anything Dean asked of him. He steels himself and sends a tiny sliver of his grace into the human’s mind. 

The Angel sees himself from 12 years prior as he strode into that run-down barn. He can feel Dean’s relief as he rescues him from Zachariah, sense the beginning of trust in his heart. The scene changes and he feels nauseous as he recognizes Lucifer’s crypt. That trust was still there. Trust that Castiel could break Heaven’s hold. And something else. Affection and brotherhood as Dean declares that the Angel is family. Abruptly he sees the bunker and his human self after the fall; he feels the sour twist of guilt as he hears Dean tell him he has to go. The memories change and suddenly he is looking into the Gas n’ Sip, seeing the button-down and blue vest of his Steve persona. The guilt is still there, but the affection is changing. A wistful fondness tints the hunter’s thoughts.

Then come the images from Purgatory. The desperation and fear, the anger at being abandoned, and the utter relief when they are reunited by the river. In that pure and unhindered world, Dean’s only thought was of finding Castiel and bringing him home. After Purgatory that fondness is sharper, more real, but Dean refuses to name it. Refuses to let himself acknowledge the reason he stayed for a year when he knew there was a way out. He changes his own memories rather than face the fact that the Angel didn’t want to stay with him.

Faster and faster the memories swirl as they show how Dean defied the Angels that hunted for Castiel. How he mourned every time he thought the Angel was dead or missing. He saw the drinking binges dark with self-loathing. He felt the unadulterated joy when Dean saw him return. Dean called Castiel his win. Through Dean’s eyes he finally understood the meaning behind the mix tape - the one full of songs by the band that made his parents fall in love. Because that’s what it was. Love. Strong enough to defy the Mark of Cain, to survive years of being crushed beneath the hunter’s proverbial boots. A love that grew no matter how hard Dean fought it...with every touch, every smile, every quiet moment they shared. 

The Angel slowly disentangles himself from the hunter’s memories and becomes aware of the fact that their positions have shifted while he was engrossed inside Dean’s mind. He can feel the warmth of the hunter’s forehead against his and the abrasive stubble against his palm. It’s deja vu, but this time one of them isn’t about to bleed out. Cas feels a dampness on his cheeks and he knows he’s crying. Judging by the shudder in Dean’s breath, he’s not alone.

Castiel’s own voice is jarring as he rasps “I guess we’re both a couple of dumbasses after all.”

The watery chuckle he gets in response is worth it as he feels Dean turn his head and press a small kiss to his palm. He opens his eyes to find Dean staring at him with an intensity that sends his heart racing. For a moment, the Angel forgets to breathe. They’ve done this so many times. Eyes locked, emotions simmering beneath the surface. But this time there is an electricity between them, a question answered, and the promise of something more. Emerald eyes drop to plush lips and they’re both teetering on the edge of forever. 

“Dean...please.” The Angel doesn’t even know what he’s asking for, but Dean does.

~~~~~~~~~~

The hunter leans in slowly as though he’s afraid Castiel will bolt, before slotting their mouths together. It’s soft and gentle, the barest touch of their lips, and Dean Winchester is not the type to believe in fireworks or seeing stars, but he will swear to Jack or Chuck or whatever other deity might be out there that that’s exactly what happened. He can hear the Angel’s sharp inhale at the tentative sweep of Dean’s tongue against his lips, but he opens for Dean instantly, groaning into his mouth as the wet muscle tangles with his. 

Dean pulls back for air he’s not sure he needs anymore and drinks in the sight of the man in his arms. Castiel is trembling, his pupils are dilated and he’s panting softly between spit-slick lips. Those baby blue eyes are glued to Dean’s mouth. 

“I have been wanting to do that for 10 years. It’s even better than I imagined.” He grins at the Angel’s pinked cheeks.

“You’ve uh, imagined this? With me? I know this vessel isn’t the one you would choose. I know your tastes lie more with the feminine variety…”

“Cas. What you saw in my head? That’s for you. No matter what body you’re in, it’s still you, man. Besides, just because I haven’t uh, been with a dude doesn’t mean I don’t want to. And you picked a hell of a vessel. Have you seen yourself? Cuz seriously. You’re hot.”

Dean decided that Castiel was adorable when he blushed and he wanted to know just how far down that flush went.

“You um, you got a place we can go? And not some cheap ass motel. I’m thinking: you and me, a king size bed, silk sheets, and way too many pillows.”

“You can have whatever you desire here, Dean.”

“Well in that case, I’ll start with you and we’ll figure the rest out as we go.”

Castiel teleports them in seconds to the largest bedroom Dean has ever seen. He breaks eye contact with the Angel to take in their new surroundings. Castiel basks in the hunter’s awed joy. It’s got everything he wanted plus huge bay windows with a mountain view. A thick, shag rug in front of a massive fireplace gives Dean all sorts of ideas. He nearly cries when he enters the master bath and sees a jacuzzi tub big enough for two. 

“Where the hell is this place, Cas? The fucking Taj Mahal?”

“Nothing quite so grand, I’m afraid. It’s actually based on a beautiful lakeside cabin in Northern California. There are white sand beaches and a stunning emerald bay just minutes from here. Is this...is this okay? I can conjure something else if you prefer.”

“No! No...this is awesome. You can just mojo up houses and stuff?”

The Angel huffs a laugh. “And stuff. That’s the beauty of this new Heaven, Dean. Just think about what you want, and it’s yours. The very landscape will adjust to your vision.”

“And you did all of this...for me?”

“I would do any number of grand and terrible things for you, Dean Winchester. My only regret is that it took too much of my energy to build it. I - I thought I had more time, frankly. I wasn’t expecting you for at least a quarter of a century. If I had known otherwise, things might have been different…”

The sorrow in those ocean eyes didn’t belong in this beautiful place. Dean found himself taking the Angel’s hands in his. “Cas, hey...nobody could’ve predicted that damn piece of rebar. I mean, who puts rebar in a barn anyway? Am I bummed I didn’t get to retire to Hawaii and spend my days with you and Sam on the beach? Sure. But honestly, all that free will and possibility...even if you’d never told me how you felt, how could you expect me to just go on without my best friend?”

“You seemed to manage just fine without me before.” His smile is wry, but Dean can see the pain there. Cas was still very much ashamed of how he’d handled the Leviathan.

“Yeah if you don’t count crying over your damn coat every night…” Well fuck. One look at puppy dog eyes and his brain to mouth filter had apparently gone out the damn window...

“You - is that what you did with my coat?” 

“No.”

But Cas is smiling again, that beautiful crooked smile, and Dean’s momentary embarrassment is so worth it. Dean steps in close, his voice a low murmur. “Ya know, Cas. We did come here for a reason…”

“Oh I haven’t forgotten.” The smokey, gravel rough voice did things for Dean. Castiel could recite the phone book and leave the hunter an aching wreck. “You are the only thing I have ever desired for my own in all my millennia of existence. Trust that I have a very long list of things I would like to do with you.” That dark gaze had Dean’s insides twisting and coiling with arousal, he stepped back towards the bed instinctively and the Angel followed.

“You got scared of a hooker in Maine, Cas. You sure you can handle me?”

“I can more than handle you, Dean Winchester.” Dean felt his calves hit the bed and a sudden shove from the Angel sent him sprawling onto the plush surface. A single dark brow was arched in challenge, but Dean could only stare as Castiel began to strip.

“You keep forgetting…” Castiel drawled, his coat and suit jacket hitting the floor.

“I forged you back together with my own essence.” The blue tie slithers from around his neck and nimble fingers undo the buttons of his dress shirt with practiced ease. “Every strand of your DNA bears my name. The knowledge I have of this body is beyond your mortal comprehension; you could never begin to imagine the things I could do to you.”

Dean is hard in his jeans, he’s sucking in air like he’s drowning but he can’t tear his eyes away from the glorious tanned skin being bared for him. Castiel’s dress shirt joins the pile at his feet as he toes out of his socks and shoes. The Angel’s obvious arousal is straining against the fabric of his pants and Dean is nearly giddy at the thought that in another moment he’ll get to see it. No more wet dreams and shame-filled jerk off sessions in the shower. No more cruising the bars for dark brown hair and blue eyes that make it easier to pretend.

“I will use this knowledge to bring you pleasures hitherto unknown to man.” Castiel pops the button on those navy slacks, drawing the zipper down sadistically slow. “Your very soul will shudder with ecstasy. You are my golden calf and beneath my hand you will come to know the true meaning of worship.”

“But I can only do that if you let me, Dean.” Sheer willpower keeps Dean on the bed as Castiel pushes his pants to the floor. Dean takes back everything he has ever said about jogging being for losers because Jesus Christ, he could bounce a quarter off of that ass and he would give his left hand to be between those thick runner’s thighs. He nearly has a stroke when he realizes the Angel isn’t wearing any underwear. 

Castiel is the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen. The disheveled sex hair, perpetual 5 o’clock shadow that would feel fucking electifying against his thighs, and blue eyes deep enough to drown in were one thing. But now Dean could see everything that had been hiding from him all those years; he devoured miles of tanned skin covering the Angel’s broad chest, the hard planes of his stomach, the sharp cut of his hips and the thick cock coming rapidly to full attention beneath the heated emerald gaze. 

“Holy shit, Cas. You’ve been holding out on me.” Why was Castiel over there and not fucking Dean into the mattress already?!

The throaty chuckle sent shivers down Dean’s spine. “As you wish.”

Dean had all of three seconds to realize he’d spoken aloud before he was being pinned to the bed by inhumanly strong hands. A quirk of those devilish lips and the hunter was completely naked beneath him. Finally.

“You gonna apply your knowledge, Cas? Well then, have at it, Pizza Man. Show me what you got.” His crooked smile was both taunting and inviting. 

The Angel eagerly sucked the hunter’s bottom lip into his mouth, nipping harshly at the plump flesh. At Dean’s gasp, he slipped his tongue between parted lips, plundering Dean’s mouth in a searing kiss. He licked into the wet cavern with abandon, drawing whimpers and moans from the man beneath him. When he pulled away, Dean was left panting through kiss-swollen lips. 

The Angel pressed a soft kiss to his temple, his flushed cheekbone, the bridge of his freckled nose. His mouth trailed along the stubbled jawline, enjoying the rasp of stubble against his lips. Dean stifled a gasp as sharp teeth nipped at his ear before sucking the lobe into his mouth in apology. Castiel’s hand carded through blonde spikes before using his grip to turn the hunter’s head slightly, sucking a bruise just behind his ear. He was rewarded with a dark groan.

“What was that?”

The Angel chuckled against the hunter’s warm neck. “An erogenous zone, Dean. A cluster of nerves that when stimulated…” he sucked harshly on the abused skin, relishing in the startled cry, “can bring pleasure. You have them all over your body and I know the location of each and every one.”

The hunter shivers at the word ‘pleasure’ in that smokey tone and hell yeah. He’s on board with this. 

Castiel pulled sharply at the blonde’s hair, exposing the long line of his throat. The ghost of teeth along his jugular ratchets the heat higher as a sliver of fear licks up his spine. Castiel smiled against the damp skin and nuzzled into the junction of the hunter’s neck and shoulder. Dean’s contended hum became a sharp moan as warm lips sucked harshly at his skin. 

“Possessive, aren’t you?” he chuckled. 

“Very” the Angel growled against his throat. Dean shuddered in response. Being wanted was an alien feeling, but damn it felt good. 

Castiel trailed those talented lips down the hunter’s pliant body, dropping kisses over his chest and down his sternum. He could feel the hunter’s heartbeat against his mouth. It skipped a beat the second he closed his lips around a pink nipple and sucked. Dean arched his hips off the bed and moaned raggedly when the Angel gently closed his teeth around the tightly furled nub.

“Fuck yeah, Cas.” He instinctively spread his legs.

Castiel knelt eagerly between his thighs, a warm finger circling the edge of his other nipple, teasing, before twisting harshly, ripping a cry from the man beneath him. The Angel lavished attention on the freckled chest, alternating until both pale buds were red and swollen, and Dean was writhing beneath him. With one final nip, he released his prize.

Dean gasped as Castiel held him down with one arm, dipping his tongue into the hunter’s navel as the blonde tried to grind upwards. The Angel was taunting him. Keeping too far away to provide any friction, but close enough that Dean could feel the tempting heat of his body. His fingers twisted in the Angel’s hair as Castiel mouthed at the delectable vee at his hip and he shuddered at the sandpaper rasp of stubble against his inner thigh. 

“You fucking tease” he gasped. He stifled a scream when that scorching tongue licked him from root to tip before swirling around the head of his dick; the forearm across his abdomen the only thing keeping him from fucking the Angel’s mouth until he came down his throat. Castiel held him there, sucking greedily on his cock, the gentle scrape of his teeth along the shaft causing Dean’s stomach to clench in anticipation. He swallowed the hunter down like it was nothing, the bulbous head sliding easily into the velvet heat of his throat as he nosed against wiry curls. He moaned, the vibrations sending shockwaves through Dean’s body as his mind started to go fuzzy around the edges.

As if sensing his impending orgasm, Cas lets the thick cock slip from his lips and Dean would forever deny the whine that tore from his mouth. The brunette pressed a kiss to the quivering shaft, lapping at the fresh rush of pre-come. He released his hold on the hunter’s hips only to soothe warm hands down quaking thighs.

“Is that...is that the best you can do?” Dean goes for cocky and misses by a mile. 

“No.” The blonde is unceremoniously flipped onto his stomach like it’s nothing, and fuck if Dean isn’t fifty shades of turned on at being manhandled. Broad hands clutch at his ass and he can feel Castiel’s hot breath against his hole. Dean feels two fingers against his rim and then a cool tingling sensation throughout his lower body. His nerves are alight with pleasure and he knows he’s now clean inside and out.

Those strong hands eagerly spread Dean's cheeks and then...nothing. Green eyes glare over his shoulder at the brunette seemingly admiring his lover spread out and open for him. His snark is choked off into a moan when he feels the slick, wet heat of Cas’ tongue against the furled skin.

Dean starts at the strange feeling. He shivers as the Angel blows lightly on Dean’s hole. He feels himself arching his back in offering before the heat of Cas’ tongue is back on his rim with little kitten licks and when he seals his lips and sucks...

“Oh! Fuck…” Cas was definitely onto something here.

“Nnnnngh!”

Dean nearly yells when the long, hot muscle of Cas’ tongue presses into him, breaching the tight ring of muscle, probing and stretching him, before pulling back out and tracing the tip of that sinful tongue around his pucker.

“Is this satisfactory, Dean?”

He can hear the smug smirk in the Angel’s voice even as he feels the breath of Cas’ words against him, and that tongue thrusts into him again at the same time Dean breathes out.

“God yes…”

He’s squirming on Cas’ tongue and whining between soft gasps of the Angel's name. He’s grinding into the silk sheets, now soaked with pre-come, but the friction is just this side of not enough. He’s writhing desperately, pressing back, trying to fuck himself on that long, hot muscle. 

And then it all stops.

“Wh-what?” He looks over his shoulder and see’s Cas sinuously crawling over him to press a filthy kiss to his lips. That guy in Clerks had obviously never had his ass eaten raw by an Angel.

“Don’t worry. I’m not done with you yet.”

He can’t help the instinctive clench of his muscles as Cas slides a suddenly lubricated finger into Dean’s hole, which despite having been stretched by Castiel's tongue, is still deliciously tight. One finger slowly becomes two, which becomes Dean begging for Cas to _get on with it_ already. But the Angel won’t be rushed as he spreads his fingers, preparing the hunter for something much larger. 

Those talented fingers shift deliberately and Dean sobs as lightning shoots up his spine igniting every nerve ending and punching the air from his lungs. Dean can’t breathe, he can’t speak as Castiel grinds his fingers against his prostate over and over. He wonders if it’s possible to die in Heaven.

Dean’s so far gone that he doesn’t notice the Angel lining himself up until there are fingers gripping his hips, pulling him up to his knees, and Cas is pushing into him. There’s no pain, only the delicious feeling of being filled. Like everything else about him, the Angel’s dick was fucking perfect for Dean. He’s just getting used to the stretch when the bastard pulls out sharply and snaps his hips, nailing the hunter’s prostate on the first go. 

“Jesus Fucking Christ!” Dean buries his face into the pillows, tipping his ass back in a silent plea. Castiel knows exactly what he needs and fucks into him with abandon. The sound of strong hips slapping against his ass is drowned out by the stream of words pouring out of Dean’s mouth; it’s please and more, and obscenities mixed with the Angel’s name. He's been on edge since the first kiss and this is 10 years of wet dreams come to life. He knows he won't last long. His hands are twisted in the sheets and god he’s so fucking close… He’s 42 and he thinks he might be able to come just like this. 

A calloused hand wraps around his leaking cock, stroking once, twice and Dean is coming harder than he ever has in his life. His body shudders violently, clenching hard around the length inside him. The debauched groan from Castiel is the last thing he hears before his vision goes black.

~~~~~~~~~~

The morning light through the windows is enough to rouse Dean from his slumber. The pressure in his head and the ache in his body tell him he hasn’t been asleep for very long. He’s lying on his back with the Angel pressed against his side. Their skin is miraculously clean of sweat and come; the pristine sheets offer some protection from the chill air. Dark hair tickles Dean’s chin as he registers the arm around his waist and a heavy thigh thrown across his. His own arm is around Cas’ shoulders, holding him close. His free hand brushes a stray curl from the brunette’s forehead and he’s pressing a kiss to the smooth skin before he can stop himself. 

He had spent so many years in the underground bunker, he’d almost forgotten what the rising sun looked like. But the way that the soft light bathes Castiel in radiant glory is worth the loss of sleep to see. The hard planes of his body are softened, his face smoothed of worry and fear. He’s beautiful. 

As though sensing the hunter’s eyes on him, Cas stirs. Dean trails his fingers down the Angel’s cheek and watches as Cas blinks blearily awake. It feels like such a weighted moment...so heavy with intimacy, which is funny considering the Angel had been buried in his ass mere hours before. Dean can’t look away from Cas. His cheeks are flushed from sleep and his eyes are unfocused. But they brighten when they focus on Dean.

“Hello, Dean.”

So much in those two little words. Affection, trust, unabashed love. Dean feels his breath catch on words he’s not ready to say. Instead he blurts out. “Did it hurt?”

He can feel the Angel’s confusion. Castiel sighs deeply. “Dean, if you’re about to ask me if it hurt when I fell from Heaven, I will smite you.”

A chaste kiss to his lips, silences the impending tirade. “Not what I was gonna say.”

“What?” he’s genuinely surprised

“I was going to say… Did it hurt when you fell for me?”

That private smile that Cas reserves just for him spreads across his face and Dean can feel the ache in his chest. “Falling for you was the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

Dean is lost. He has been absolutely gone on Castiel for years and he knows it. He’ll tell him so someday.

~~~~~~~~~~

Austin is everything Sam had hoped it would be. The art, the music, the people are exactly what he needs. It’s a chance to start over and try his best to move on. It is hard the first year by himself - hunting alone is more difficult than he remembered. There are other hunters in Texas, sure. But Sam doesn’t know them and certainly doesn’t trust them right away even though they know who he is. The Winchesters are famous after all. He lives out of motels for a while, but he misses the permanence of the bunker. He has been in Austin 9 months when he finally manages to convince Eileen to sell her house and move south. She’d wanted to be with him of course, but uprooting herself again wasn’t something she was too keen on especially considering the relative newness of their relationship. Love wins out over duty in the end and she relocates to Texas a few months later. With the money from the sale, they are able to put a down payment on a beautiful house in the country - thank goodness for cheap realty! Sam takes a job as a handyman around town, and Eileen teaches sign language part-time at the local high school. 

Having Eileen by his side eases the pain in his heart more than he thought it would. She really is perfect for him and he doesn’t care if Chuck had written her into his life or not. He isn’t going to repeat his brother’s mistakes and deny himself a chance to be happy. They make a great team, able to sign and communicate on hunts without giving away their positions. They anticipate each other and move in sync after hunting together only a short time. Texas is big enough to keep them busy without having to hit the road for more than a day or two, but video calls with Jody, Donna and the girls are common. At least once a year they meet in the middle in Lebanon to catch up. Those meetings invariably bring back memories of his brother, especially standing in their hometown, but each year the pain lessens just a little bit. But Sam knows it would always be there.

These days, Sam is the only one doing any hunting. Eileen had tried to insist she was still capable after she became pregnant, but Sam is not going to risk her or their unborn child. He knows all too well how quickly a routine hunt could go wrong now that they don’t have Chuck’s plot armour. He felt pretty bad using his brother’s death to get his way and convince her to stay at home, but if anything happened to her again he’d never forgive himself. 

Eileen just smiles when he says he wants to name their son Dean. “Of course.” she says, like there’s no other name they would even consider. His brother might be in his heart and on his mind every day, but this way it’s almost like he could have him in his life again. They hold out hope for a little girl down the road, but fate decides they are a one child family. Dean is spoiled rotten in all the ways his namesake never was. 

Sam takes extra effort to spend time with his son and make absolutely sure the boy knows he is loved. They go to the park and little Dean loves riding on his father’s shoulders and towering above the other toddlers. Sam chokes back tears when he sees “Dean” embroidered on his son’s overalls after the first time the rascal wanders off in the grocery store. He’s blonde and bright and beautiful and Sam isn’t ashamed at how protective he is of his child. Eileen teaches him to sign from a young age and it’s like their own secret language. They have entire conversations while the rest of his 3rd grade class looks on. 

When he’s old enough, Sam teaches Dean how to play baseball and soccer in the backyard while Eileen teaches him to cook and sew. Sam’s a little disappointed that the blonde hair begins to darken as the boy ages, but he’s got his father’s hazel eyes and his mother’s raven hair. He’s the best of both of them. And he’s smart. Sam is delighted when Dean starts taking AP courses in high school and talking about going to law school. He wants to fulfill the dream his father didn’t get a chance to. 

Dean’s 18th birthday is when they finally tell him about what they really do for a living. Sam shows him John’s old journal and explains the meaning behind his tattoo. He explains who the people in all the photos really are and how they met. He explains to his son about John and Mary and the deal that nearly ruined his life. He talks about the years hunting with his brother - the good and the bad. Kevin, the boy prophet who deserved so much better than he got. He tells him about Castiel, the Angel that came into their life and changed it forever; about Jack, the boy who became God. Ellen and Jo, Bobby and Ash, Crowley, Rowena, Charlie, Jody, Donna, Claire, Kaia and Alex. He tells their real stories and how each of them helped save the world. To his credit, Dean takes it much easier than Sam thought he would. Perhaps he’s seen glimpses of the torn clothes and bloody wounds after a harrowing hunt. Maybe he’s sensed there was something they weren’t telling him all along. That night, his son bears the symbol of protection on his forearm and Sam is filled with a terrible mix of regret and pride.

Sam can feel himself slowing down as the years pass. His reflexes aren’t as keen as they used to be and he has to wear glasses all the time to keep the headaches at bay. He embraces the grey after a disastrous attempt with do-it-yourself hair dye. They throw out the white rugs in the bathroom and Eileen doesn’t stop laughing when she sees him for the whole day. She says it’s because she loves him so much that she stops when she does. And she does love him. She accepts him just as he is and doesn’t ask for more than he can give. He sees her sad smile every time he goes into the garage and stares at the classic car under an ugly tarp. She doesn’t comment on the red-rimmed eyes or tear tracks on his cheeks on the days he sits behind the wheel, turns the radio to classic rock, and hears his brother’s voice...Driver picks the music. Shotgun shuts his cakehole! 

In the end, it really is old age that gets him. After a lifetime of avoiding hospitals using fake insurance papers, Sam finds it oddly poetic that he’s confined to a hospital bed in his final days. The tubes and machines keep him alive even as his body begins to shut down. He’s grateful they let him take his hospice care at home at least. He refuses to die in that sterile ward that reminds him too much of the days his mind was broken. He’s surrounded by photos of his friends and family. A young Sam and Dean smile widely from the nightstand right beside the photo they’d taken with Cas, Bobby, Ellen and Jo before what they thought was the end of the world. 

Eileen is at his side, running her fingers through his hair, and despite the wrinkles and white streaks in her hair Sam still thinks she’s the most beautiful woman in the world. She’s smiling at him, but he can see the telltale shimmer of tears in her eyes. It’s time. He manages a weak smile as he sees his son walk into the room. The fierce pride he’s always felt for his son is as strong as it ever was. The boy might look like his parents, but he embodies the spirit of the original Dean Winchester in everything else. As the edges of his vision begin to go dark, Sam swears he can see his brother standing just behind his legacy. He looks just like he did the last time Sam saw him. 

“Dad.” 

Sam struggles to focus on his son while the image of his brother watches him expectantly. His son’s lips move, but it’s his brother’s voice he hears. “It's okay. You can go now.”

Eileen whispers one last I love you in his ear as he feels himself nod. He knows he’ll see her soon. Dean grabs his father’s hand and his mother takes the other. A gentle squeeze is all he can manage as his eyes slip closed and his head falls to the side. A single tear streams down his face. Eileen sobs into his neck as the monitors flatline and begin to beep.

~~~~~~~~~~

The passage of time is different in Heaven than on Earth. Every moment Dean spends here with Cas is both mere seconds and years long. His Angel takes advantage of his position as co-creator of the New Heaven to ensure Dean wants for nothing. His every fantasy is indulged without question and only a few raised eyebrows. The hunter wishes with all his heart that he could have had this on Earth because, as Cas keeps telling him, he shouldn’t have had to die to be happy. But he did and Dean’s not one to whine about the things he can’t change. He’d much rather spend his days with his friends and his nights re-learning every one of the Angel’s sensitive spots. 

He finally gets a chance to teach Castiel how to play pool and if he presses just a little too close while he’s helping him lineup a shot? Well Cas doesn’t mind at all. The Angel always shivers as Dean purrs instructions into his ear, moves around the table at the barest touch of the hunter’s hand, immediately finding green eyes when he successfully sinks his shot. Castiel might hold unbridled power, ageless wisdom, and unparalleled strength in his body, but he bends like a willow to Dean’s every whim. Dean thought he knew what power was during the time he was a Knight of Hell, but nothing compares to the rush he gets when an Angel who could destroy planets submits to him, body and soul.

Weekly dinners at the Roadhouse become part of their routine and Dean basks in the warmth of family. The deep love and devotion between Bobby and Ellen. The laughter and ribbing from Jo and Ash. Even the weekends of DnD, Doritos and Mountain Dew with Kevin and Charlie. The real Charlie - more dorky little sister and less hard-eyed soldier. It’s everything he’d wanted growing up. It’s times like this that he wishes Sam was with him too, but he knows his brother is living the life he’s always deserved and that he’d be joining them when the time was right. 

Dean develops a fondness for moonlight cruises in Baby, taking advantage of the endless highways Cas created for him. It’s in those quiet moments, when the soft light of the stars illuminate the Angel’s face that his heart constricts painfully. He loves the Angel so much, but still has difficulty saying it. So instead he runs his thumb along the other’s knuckles and lets his eyes say what his mouth can’t. Sometimes they drive for days with no destination, just enjoying being together. Cas gives him sardonic looks when he ironically plays ‘Highway to Hell’, but he always holds his hand while they drive. 

The one time Dean works up the nerve to see his parents, he holds Cas’ hand so tightly he thinks he might break it. The night before, he’d let the Angel sift through his memories of growing up on the road. Showed him all the times he and Sam were left alone for days. Stealing food just to keep from starving when John wasn’t there. The drunken rages when he was. The beatings and slurs heaped on Dean as he took the brunt of his father’s displeasure to keep his little brother safe. He even lets him see the night John found him with a boy in the back of the Impala and beat him bloody on the sidewalk. That night Dean drank half a handle of whiskey and held a razor blade to his wrist. Sam’s quiet voice on the other side of the bathroom door was the only thing that stayed his hand.

Cas’s presence keeps him steady and prevents him from bolting as he stands in front of an exact replica of his childhood home. He doesn’t know which version of his parents he’s going to get. Is it the mother who told him she only wanted good things for him and that Angels were watching over him? Or is it the one who walked away from him after being resurrected and coldly declared he wasn’t a child? Would he see the father who told him he was proud of his boys and meant it? Or the one whose touch always left bruises? He doesn’t get a chance to find out because the second the door opens, Castiel has John Winchester by the throat and lifts him clear off the ground. The Angel’s voice is a low growl as he slams the man against the wall. 

“How dare you.” he snarls “How dare you train your child to believe that he is nothing more than a tool. That he is isn’t enough the way he is. That he doesn’t matter. How dare you force a 4 year-old to devote his entire life to his brother because you couldn’t be a father. You come back years after the damage has been done and expect that pithy platitudes will earn you a place here? You abandoned your children time and time again. You let Dean believe that he was unlovable, that everyone would leave him just like you did. You are a disgrace of a man and don’t deserve the title of father. You’re lucky Jack didn’t know what kind of father you were when he redid Heaven. Your very presence in this holy place is anathema to me.”

With a flick of his wrist, Castiel sends the human stumbling backwards down the foyer and into Mary’s arms. He turns blazing eyes on her terrified face. “And you. You put your own happiness and John’s life ahead of your own child. You sold Sam to Azazel without a second thought so you didn’t have to be alone. You cursed your sons to a dismal childhood doing the one thing you never wanted for them. And when you were brought back...you left. You walked away from your sons when they needed you and worked alongside the people who tortured them. You’re barely better than your husband. You two deserve each other. But you don’t deserve Dean. Or Sam. They love you because you’re their parents. Because they feel like they have to. You make me sick.”

John regains his feet and has the audacity to level a finger threateningly at the Angel. “Now look here, you winged asshole. Just because you suck my son’s dick don’t mean you get to lecture me!” He doesn’t take the stiffening of Castiel’s spine as the warning that it is. “Yeah, I know about you two. Bobby couldn’t fucking shut up about it. I did everything I could to teach that boy how to be a man, but he always was a disappointment.”

The crack of thunder and the gathering of dark clouds are immediate. The wind howls through the house where seconds before there had been sunlight and stillness. Castiel’s eyes shine with cold fire and he raises his hand at his lover’s abuser. In that moment, he is the holy avenger he’d been when Dean had first met him, seething with power and prepared to destroy. He could wipe John Winchester from all memory. 

A warm hand on his shoulder is enough to bring Castiel back to himself. Though the weight of Dean’s palm is as a fly to a redwood, the Angel calms instantly. The light fades from his eyes and his hands, but he doesn’t move from his position between the Winchester males. 

“Cas. It’s okay. Let’s...let’s just go.” 

The Angel lets himself be turned, following the gentle pressure of Dean’s hand. He meets wide green eyes and is immediately ashamed. He’d lost control and nearly obliterated Dean’s parents while the hunter was right beside him. “Dean, I -”

The hunter just shakes his head and brushes a stray strand of hair from the brunette’s forehead. “I said it’s okay. Let’s just go home.” He feels the tell-tale pull behind his navel that signals teleportation and in an instant they are on their own front porch overlooking a placid lake. Castiel’s apologies are cut short as Dean yanks him forward by the lapels of his jacket and crushes their mouths together. After a long moment, the hunter pulls back, but he doesn’t release his hold. He’s smiling. 

“You’re something else, ya know that? You - you went all Smitey McSmiterson on my old man. I thought he was going to piss himself.” He releases the now rumpled coat. “I didn’t show you all those old memories to make you hate the guy, Cas. I just wanted you to know that our relationship is...complicated. Really complicated... I forgave my mom for what she did...but Dad? That’s gonna take a bit longer. Especially now that he knows about, ya know...us. He might never accept it...or me for that matter. Probably blames himself for how I turned out.”

The Angel’s hand finds its place on his cheek. The familiar brush of his thumb against flushed cheekbones is an instant comfort. “Dean, you turned out to be a beautiful, selfless, loving soul despite your father, not because of him.”

“I know. I know that now, thanks to you. Nobody - nobody else would’ve done that for me. Sam tried a few times, but he was too little back then. So thank you. Just...thank you.”

“I am sorry if I’ve made reconciling with your father more difficult. After seeing all he’d done...I admit I might have done something truly regrettable if you hadn’t been there.”

“Nah. Don’t be. Hell you might’ve made it easier considering I doubt he’ll say shit to me out of fear you’ll kick his ass. Besides…was kinda hot.”

Castiel arches a single brow as his eyes darken. 

“Badass Warrior of God ready to Hulk out for me? Definitely hot.” 

His tongue flicks out to wet his lips and blue eyes track the movement. Dean’s back is against the wall before he can blink as the Angel licks into his mouth. That inhumanly warm tongue tangles with his and the hunter curses his need to breathe. Dean is panting when Cas finally pulls away. The Angel looks like he wants to devour him. He bites his lip to stifle his groan. Yeah he loves it when the Angel submits to him. But this? He can admit he loves this too.

~~~~~~~~~~

With so few Angels left in Heaven after the reorg, Castiel easily resumes his position as a Captain of the Host. As Jack becomes more comfortable with his powers, he takes on the task of creating new Angels to fill his mostly empty roster. These new Angels know nothing of how Heaven used to be and are the perfect opportunity to make sweeping changes. Cas takes it upon himself to teach and train every one of them. The very first thing they learn is that humans are to be loved and protected. Angels are now required to spend time on Earth to experience humanity for themselves. 

There are a few of the OG Angels still left from Chuck’s regime. Naomi readily accepts Jack’s supremacy though she bristles at having to take orders from an Angel who used to be her subordinate. Castiel could not be happier at this development. One of his first orders is to ensure there will be no more Angelic lobotomies for those who want to think for themselves. No other Angels will have to endure what he did. The resurrection of Gabriel and Balthazar helps cement the new order in Heaven. 

As the sole Archangel, Gabriel’s power allows Heaven to run easily without Jack’s presence. In return, he spends his days mercilessly refining his Trickster persona on the poor unsuspecting Angels in his charge. The small blonde is downright giddy to find that Chuck is now human and resolves to pay him a visit now and again. In between throwing lavish parties and tormenting their now aging father, Gabriel and Balthazar both make time to visit Castiel and Dean at their little corner of Heaven. Balthazar doesn’t say ‘I told you so’ but his smug smirk is enough to irritate Dean within seconds. Gabriel, on the other hand, says a lot. He never misses an opportunity to razz his little brother about his ‘sexy boy toy’. Making the two blush seems to be his personal mission and he does it with a single-minded focus that Castiel wishes would be turned to running Heaven. 

Despite the good-natured teasing from the two blonde Angels, Dean knows they approve of him and Cas. They’re happy for them. In a rare moment of seriousness, Gabriel had pulled the hunter aside and told him in no uncertain terms, that he would personally deal with anyone in Heaven who so much as looked at them sideways. Considering the Archangel’s penchant for sex with anything that moved, he shouldn’t have been surprised by the easy acceptance, or desire to change Heaven’s mindset about love. It was a heartwarming moment between the two...until Gabriel slapped his ass. Watching the meddlesome shrimp be thrown bodily into the lake by Castiel made up for it though. 

Jody and Donna both make it to Heaven before Sam does. Car crash. Go figure. Maybe it’s because this version of Heaven is designed for him, but they look exactly as he remembers them even though he knows it has to have been years since he died. It’s a strange feeling, because Dean’s glad they’re here, but he knows that means Claire, Kaia, and Alex don’t have their mother-figure anymore. Jody waves off his concern. Claire and Kaia are a formidable hunting team and Alex is a hotshot doctor now who spends her off hours patching up her foster sisters. She taught the girls everything she knows and they’ll be just fine. Donna claps him on the shoulder and assures him that she left her safehouse and arsenal of weapons for them too so it’s not like they’re helpless. Besides, they’re adults now, Dean. They haven’t needed us to babysit them for a while. 

The two women look at him and Cas that night and somehow they know. He’s not sure if it’s the fading bruises on his own neck, the silver band of metal around the Angel’s left ring finger, or some sort of womanly intuition, but they know. Just like Benny knew within a minute of seeing the two of them together in Purgatory. Dean’s a little embarrassed about how obvious and oblivious he was back then, but he takes Castiel’s hand and tries not to blush at the wide smiles he receives from the three around him. He’s successful until Cas - who has zero qualms about public affection - raises their joined hands and lays a soft kiss to Dean’s knuckles. He can feel the heat flood his face, but he gives the Angel’s hand a squeeze anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~

They’re at the Roadhouse when it happens. Dean is putting his pool skills to good use and is completely sharking Charlie. Ellen and Bobby are preparing for dinner while Jo mans the bar. Castiel is watching the one-sided pool game with a small smile when his head suddenly snaps up. His eyes go distant as he listens to a voice only he can hear. Dean is immediately at his side. He’s got his hand on the Angel’s shoulder, watching as blue eyes suddenly clear. 

“Cas, you okay?” 

“Yes, Dean. I’m fine. It was uh, Angel Radio.” Castiel raises his eyes to Dean’s with a small smile. “Sam is on his way.”

Dean is speechless as he feels intense joy and sorrow in equal measure. His baby brother is dead, but he’ll be here soon. He lived his life to a ripe old age, chugging Viagra most likely, and now he’s on his way to the new Heaven. The hunter lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Where?”

The Impala flies down the road as Dean steps on the gas. He’s got a destination and a short time to get there. This was one drive he insisted on doing by himself. As much as Cas is Sam’s family too, Dean wants to be the one to greet him. He doesn’t question Angelic physics as a drive that normally takes him over an hour passes in minutes. The hunter pulls up to a small bridge overlooking a small river. This is where Cas said Sam would arrive. He thinks the bridge looks kinda similar to the one where they worked their first case together...the Woman in White. He walks to the edge and gazes at the water for a moment before intuition causes him to turn. Sam has arrived.

He can’t help the grin that spreads across his face. “Hey, Sammy.”

“Dean.” His little brother is smiling and looking exactly as he did the last time Dean saw him. Dean pulls him into a rough hug and feels how tightly Sam clings to him for a moment. 

“Took you long enough.” Dean pulls back and claps his brother on the shoulder. 

“Yeah well somebody once told me that I had to die of old age. For once, I did what I was told.” Sam takes in their surroundings. “I guess what Cas said is true, huh? He really did redo Heaven for you.”

“Yeah…” Dean’s smile is soft and fond. “He um, he’s got a place set up for you, ya know. He says it looks just like the place you had with Eileen in Texas. Which, by the way, Texas, Sam? Really? With all the yeehaw bullshit?”

“You’re just mad I got to dress like a cowboy all the time and you didn’t.”

“That’s true. Anyway. I’ll show you the house and you can get settled in or whatever. The Roadhouse is kinda where we all hang out most of the time, so you can join us when you’re ready.”

“Us?”

“Bobby, Ellen, and Jo. Ash, Charlie, me and Cas. Jody and Donna sometimes too. We have dinner once a week. Oh! And Saturdays are game night with Charlie. You’ll like this Dungeons and Dragons thing she’s got going. I’m a level 8 Barbarian.” He sounds so proud.

Sam can only smile. This really was the Heaven his brother deserved. Cas did good. He’s even more impressed when he sees that his home is not only next to a crystal clear lake, but is an exact replica of the home he’d just left. The Angel definitely had an eye for detail. Dean points out a beautiful lake house a few miles down the shore. 

“That’s Charlie’s place. She says she based it off some rom-com she watches every year. And over there…” he points to the other side of the lake, “That’s Jody. Donna’s right next door. Ellen, Jo and Ash basically live at the Roadhouse, and Bobby’s place is next to that. They’re a thing now, ya know? Ellen and Bobby. It’s cute.”

“And what about you?”

“Me? Oh. Right there.” He follows his brother’s finger to a stunning log home. It’s something out of an architecture magazine with huge windows and a large deck complete with a pier for fishing. “That’s me. Saw it in a magazine once and always wanted to have a fancy log cabin on the water. It’s pretty awesome. The windows let in all sorts of light and I’ve got a big screen tv, a memory foam mattress, gourmet kitchen. The works.”

“Sounds like Cas gave you your dream home. That’s great, Dean. It’s huge.”

“Well, it’s not just for me...Cas - he um, he’is there too. Most of the time anyway. When he’s not training new Angels or whatever... Charlie comes by a lot for food. Trying to teach her how to cook, but she gets distracted so easily. We have our game nights there sometimes too if I can’t be bothered to change out of my pajamas. I just have to bake the game master a pie in exchange.”

Dean sees the same knowing smile on his brother’s lips that he’d seen on Jody and Donna years ago. But Sam doesn’t say anything. Instead he assures his brother he’ll be along to the Roadhouse soon. He just wants to get his bearings a bit.

Evening is rapidly approaching when Sam finally sees the bar come into view. The lights are on and he can hear Bob Segar coming from the jukebox. The nostalgia of the scene hits him hard and he quickens his steps. Eileen will be along soon he knows, but in the meantime he’s got 50 years of catching up to do. The dirt road muffles his footsteps as he turns the corner onto the wide porch. He pauses for a moment as he takes in a sight he never thought he’d see. On a bench swing out front are Dean and Cas. They’re too wrapped up in a hushed conversation that they don’t notice his approach just yet. Sam thought he knew what his brother was implying by the lake, but seeing it in person - the way the two are there together - Dean with an arm around Cas’ waist and the other enmeshed with Cas’...Cas stretched out on the swing with his head on Dean’s chest tells him everything he needs to know. There’s a comfortable ease to the way they lean into each other that speaks of intimate familiarity. 

Sam clears his throat loudly and Dean jumps at the sudden noise, but doesn’t relinquish his hold on the Angel in his arms. Sam meets his brother’s startled gaze and smiles wide. He nods at their intertwined hands. “Took you long enough”. 

Dean laughs and smiles as his gaze travels from his brother to his Angel. He’s found his peace.

FIN.


End file.
